


Take My Hand

by theroomstops



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Mentions of Ella, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, mentions of Charlie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroomstops/pseuds/theroomstops
Summary: “Love, why are you sitting in a corner?” She must have been distracted. The door has opened without her even noticing. Her husband leans against the frame, his hands behind his back, eyes curiously locking with hers from across the room. He looks like a dream.It's their wedding day, and she's sitting on the floor by herself. David & Julia + deep conversations in their fancy outfits.





	1. Cake

**Author's Note:**

> It's a few years post-show. No one died, Julia was merely injured and things have trickled on from there. She's left the job, she's a political consultant now and constantly on the news, and David's become a detective.

_Take my hand_  
_Take my whole life too_  
_Oh, for I can't help_  
_Falling in love with you_

She’s counted at least fifteen creepy ancestors hanging above her. None of them really look at all like her husband, yet all of them sort of look creepily similar. Maybe it’s just those weird, stiff, old photography smiles everyone seemed to have that makes them look the same, but they’re all very much creeping her out. And even so, she’d rather be sitting on a cold floor right now with the creepy pictures of men hanging above her than be upstairs with everyone else. If she listens closely, she can hear the loud, joyful cheers. She tries to listen to the rain instead, making soft, comforting sounds as they hit the window that overlooks the lake below.

Still, the outrageous amounts of joyful cheers and hiding in an empty room aside, it’s been the happiest day of her life, it really has. Seeing him smile so proudly as she walked towards him, the wind making his kilt flow dangerously around him. He’d been overcome with emotions, his voice even faltered a bit as Father Patrick had asked if they were both there of their own volitions. She’d felt her own throat close up as his hand had squeezed hers while Great Uncle James played the bagpipe, just as he had at every other family wedding in the last 60 years. After the applause, they’d helped him back to his seat, and for a second she’d felt his warm lips against her neck and fingers briefly wrapped around hers, and instantaneously the persistent butterflies in her tummy had disappeared, replaced by all-consuming calm. 

“Love, why are you sitting in a corner?” She must have been distracted. The door has opened without her even noticing. Her husband leans against the frame, his hands behind his back, eyes curiously locking with hers from across the room. He looks like a dream. He changed from his wedding kilt into a tailored suit after the ceremony, and even though he worn suits every day when they met, somehow it wasn’t like this. Those weren’t the suits that would be pictured adorning the freshly painted walls of their house. And he hadn’t worn then the silk tie she’d fixed for him in the morning before she’d put on her wedding dress. The tie her hand had clutched onto as she’d held him back for one last kiss before he’d stepped outside in the temporarily sunny Scottish summer, to wait for her at the end of the aisle.

“You found me.” Her head falls against the wall behind her, and he smiles back when she smiles at him. She’s just thankful that it’s not someone else.

“Mum was about to organize a search party. I fibbed and told her you’d gone off to call your mother, and Charlie jumped in and distracted her with a song. Don’t underestimate the powers of a cute kid. I’m guessing you’re feeling a little overwhelmed?” She nods. A warm smile turns into a playful grin, and he steps into the room and shows her what’s in his hands. “I snuck a piece of cake for you, and a bottle of wine.”

“I knew I married you for a reason.” It almost makes her cry. In another life, she would have been expected to get up, walk back upstairs and present a perfect façade. In this life, her husband hands her a plate of cake and closes the door behind him before joining her on the floor. They sit side by side, safely hidden from overenthusiastic family members. He kisses her softly, gently licking off the bits of cake crumbs stuck to her lips. She holds up her spoon and the many spoonfuls of cake in her mouth muffles her words as she looks at him and shares honestly, “Your family is insane. And massive.”

“Well, you did agree that mum could invite all the cousins.” He takes a sip of the wine and steals a spoonful of cake before she can eat it.

“I was in the middle of work, you thief,” The next spoonful goes down fast, and she sets the plate on the ground between them as she turns to him. He offers the wine, and she shakes her head, still eating the cake. Her head leans against the cold wall, and he turns his body to mirror hers. “And I didn’t realize adding cousins meant adding **50** people. 50 people that I’ve never met, by the way.”

His face grimaces playfully, trying to stifle his laughter. He’d tried to tell her at the time. Made large gestures behind his mother’s back as she’d sat in their dining room writing down the guest list. “39. Are you upset because you didn’t invite your mother?”

“No. I did invite her.” She says quietly. He’s clearly taken by surprise, which isn’t actually surprising. She had decided not to, and told him that explicitly. And then she'd changed her mind after Ella had asked if her mother was excited to see her wedding dress. She’d blamed it on hormones, and the loving face of a child that thankfully only knew parents who would move heaven and earth to keep her happy. So she’d sent off the invitation, assuring herself that nothing bad could come from it, and she’d probably not attend after all. “And I regretted it instantly. It’s not like I expected her to come, but I expected her to just ignore it, not call and explain _all_ the reasons she wasn’t coming.”

“Julia, why didn’t you tell me?” He looks at her with a mix of concern and sadness. David had only met Frances Montague once, and if it was left up to Julia, they’d keep it that way. It had been brief, and accidental, at an auction Julia had dragged him to far too early on a Sunday. She was still celebrating the newfound freedom of a life without a security detail, being allowed to roam and go wherever she wanted. After the event, he’d held her hand in the car and driven them home in silence.

“And make you realize what a cold bitch you’re marrying? Can’t get her mother to show up to her wedding even if she invites her?” She eyes the wine bottle by his side, longing for the taste of luscious grapes, and draws a deep breath as her husband’s hand strokes her jaw gently. 

“Julia...” His fingers runs through that morning’s carefully curled locks, and if there was any kind of pity hidden in the comforting smile he gave her, she couldn’t find any traces of it. 

“Fine. I didn’t want you to get involved. And you would, let’s not pretend otherwise.” He cocks his head as if to agree. They both knew that was true. He was still instinctively overprotective, even when he disagreed. It was innate; he had said once that he thought it had been that way from the beginning.

“Aye, I would.” He nods and smiles. He takes her left hand, touches her wedding band before he joins their hands together as they have a million times before. Interlocked. Connected. Just as they had instinctively done the first time, and the second time… and every time they’ve come together since. 

“I like keeping you separate. You and I can lovingly disagree, and we both learn from each other, right? Politically?” He nods, as she continues. “My mother read five newspapers a day and she never listened to _anyone_. My father was terrified of her their entire marriage, or at least for as long as I can remember.” David laughs. Julia frowns, and scoffs, fixing him with a firm look. “The man was a high court judge, David. He put several crime lords in jail, some much worse than Luke Aikens, and yet he was terrified of sitting across from that tiny woman at dinner and discuss anything other than the weather and charity events. I enjoy listening to your perspective. She would just scare you off and make you run away.”

“I can’t say I understand,” He puts his arm around her. His hard, warm body ever comforting against hers as she leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder with a sigh of both contentment and sadness. “But I am sorry. It sounds very lonely.”

“I didn’t know it was. It was just… normal. But I always had this feeling inside me that I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t until yesterday that I knew what that was. And I realized I couldn’t even tell you anything about my cousins that the postman wouldn’t know. Your family wants to come to your wedding so badly they’d prepared to train down to London as a group if your mother wasn’t successful in convincing us. It’s a lot, but… it’s nice.”

“Well, they’re your family too now. If you want them.”

Her eyes do that weird thing they do when she’s not sure what to say, narrow and focus, and then there’s a half smile before she looks away. His eyes say he understands. It’s still a lot. Taking on Ella and Charlie is one thing, and non-negotiable. The rest might take some time. His hand finds hers, she pulls them to her lips and kisses his pulse point. Feels it beating steadily as she holds it against her mouth. She breathes deeply, and wraps herself in his embrace.

“How are the kids doing? Is Charlie half asleep across two chairs just as expected?”

“Hopped up on sugar.” He looks at her pointedly, and she relents with a small chuckle and a big smile.

“Yes, I may or may not have fed them _a lot_ of cake earlier, while you were outside with the photographer.” He smiles back, knowingly. Charlie had already revealed her rookie parenting mistake. “No, I made a choice. They both like me more and either way; your mother that has to deal with the sugar high later, we don't. Consider it retaliation for all the extra wedding guests.”

“We got married today.” His body stretches against the wall behind him. Hand still in hers, and a soft, relaxed look on his face as he looks at her.

“Yes. We did.” Her stomach flutters as eyes lock. She leans against him, and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on his lips with a smile. He wants more, and pulls her back for another. He takes her breath away, this man. Her husband. “Did you ever think two years ago that you and I would be sitting here, together, in designer dress, hiding from your family in a cellar?”

“No.” He laughs heartily. “I thought if we made it through my posting without killing each other we’d probably both deserve medals. You didn’t make it very easy to like you. Nor did I particularly _want_ to like you to start with.”

“You were so irritating, incredibly annoying. Like a pestering bee buzzing right in my ear, always telling me how wrong I was. Especially in front of poor Terry, who probably went home to his husband and complained about having to listen to us rowing every day. We would have deserved that.”

“Poor Terry.” He says, softly. Wistfully. “Putting up with the two of us.”

“I bet he’s looking at us from wherever he is...” Julia tries to keep her voice light, but the thought of Terry still invokes a painful tremor in them both.

“Very confused.” David shakes his head a bit.

“Well, yes.” They share a sad look. Thankful for everything that had happened after, but still trying to find some sort of meaning in the blood splatter that still haunted their dreams occasionally. She puts on a cheery smile and sits up a bit. “So, shall we go cut that enormous wedding cake?”

“No, let’s just sit here for a bit.” Her heart skips a beat as he simply leans back against the wall with a smile, drawing her in closer. He’s the one who understands, who welcomes her apprehension towards family parties. The one who waits patiently _with_ her instead of _for_ her.


	2. Mr Montague & Mrs Budd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of a wedding. And the newlyweds have some fun on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half is a sort of flashback to the wedding (from Julia's perspective), the second half is them back on the floor. As I kept writing, I found I really wanted to include some wedding things, but I didn't want to do an outright wedding fic. So it's bits of it. Remember to grab some wine to go with the cheese.

_Oh like a river flows_  
_Surely to the sea_  
_Darling so it goes_  
_Some things are meant to be_

She had thought carefully about her vows. Perhaps too much. Spent weeks trying to find a way to put into words what meeting David had meant to her. How do you vocalize that it changed everything, that he literally saved your life, without sounding overly sentimental and annoyingly mushy? There was no need to be cringe-worthy. She had snickered with Roger at every lavish, over the top wedding they’d attended - at times it had felt like the only thing they had in common. She’d never been comfortable showing her deepest emotions in front of others. She barely did it well in front of her intended target, even when she meant it with every fiber of her being. Maybe it was how she’d been raised, and perhaps it was how she had maintained her last bit of privacy once she ventured into politics. Though standing in front of his family, and a few of her own long-time friends, it was hard not to feel dazzled by the moment. To remember the tragedies, discoveries, losses and giggles that had got them there. Two small heads had peeked out from behind the beautiful man standing in front of her, and looking at the three of them, it felt almost silly how much time she’d spent trying to rehearse what felt like the truest thing in the world.

 _“Shakespeare said, ‘love makes blind’.”_ She’d begun. _“But I don’t believe that's true. If anything, love does the opposite. It awakens you. It opens your eyes. Perhaps it sometimes makes one do things one thought they wouldn’t, perhaps it even seems like a plea of insanity at times, but first and foremost, I think love frees you. It did for me, anyway. When I feel scared or angry or overwhelmed, I know that it’s a temporary feeling. It’s just a feeling, not what I am. I know that because I have a home now, where I feel safe, and free, and loved. A place where my mistakes are accepted and forgiven, and my flaws are embraced. Where I can be myself, without judgment or unattainable expectations. You awakened me. This odd little unit we’ve become, that was my original plea of insanity... but now it has become my home. You are my home, David. You’ve changed my world, and I’ve changed yours. Now it is ours. So on this day, I take you to be my husband. I promise to love and protect you, all of you, until my last breath. That is my vow to you.” She’d made it through without crying, just barely. He had not been so lucky. He’d silently dried a stubborn tear and leaned over for a kiss._

Ella had read a poem, “Love” by Roy Croft, clearly an inside tip from the proud father that had watched on from the sidelines. Charlie had stood shyly by Ella’s side, occasionally remembering that he had been told to stand straight, or his suit wouldn’t look as nice. One of David’s cousins had sung an unfamiliar song that made some of the guests weep from the start. Julia had looked on curiously, unsure if she was meant to understand the meaning of it. He had whispered ‘Dead Nana’s favorite song, sung at her funeral’ before she could lean over to ask, and she stopped trying to follow along as he’d squeezed her hand in his with a smile.

When he’d taken both her hands in his and stepped closer, her lips had felt oddly dry and her pulse had raced uncontrollably. She’d been the bride before. She had taken vows before. But her first wedding had been traditional, as had his. Wedding vows had been repeated, not given freely. They'd booth stood in a church, not on a makeshift floor near the lake by his Aunt Sally and Uncle Richard's house. This was still different and new. The little flutters in her stomach had grown stronger as he’d opened his mouth to speak. 

_“It’s strange standing here in front of my family because the David they’ve known all their life is so different to the one that you met, when I was at my lowest. I was lost and angry and sad. There were times before we met that I held you responsible for that. But in all that horrible darkness and pain, you became this one shining light, something good in my life. Something I never expected. Someone I can’t live without. Who took my hand, instead of pushing it away, and ran towards me, instead of the other way._

_I really love the way that you can handle me, all of me. Even when it gets a little dark, you’re there to help me find my way out of it again. I love the way you challenge me. The way that you do all these little things for all of us, without expecting anything in return. You’ve held me accountable, helped me become a better father. You turned me into a terrible PPO. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you again, which wasn’t very professional. It’s still so confusing, everything that happened then, but in the end I can’t help but be grateful for it all. I’m grateful for you. Thank you for loving me in a way that I’ve never been loved before. Today, and tomorrow and every day for the rest of our lives, I choose us. You’re my choice, Julia. Forever.”_

______________________________________________________________________________

“You went to an all-girls school, aye?” David says, eyes on the closet door on the other side of the room, licking his lips as he starts to smile. The floor is starting to feel cold beneath her, and it’s a welcome distraction. “So you’ve never made out in a cupboard under the stairs, I’m guessing?”

“Not with a boy, no.” She says, and his head turns in flustered surprise. She hadn’t meant it to pique his interest, though she understands his surprise, it’s just the truth. David’s eyes sparkle with mischief. He groans as he gets up off the floor, and she smiles. For all the predictably ageist jokes in the tabloids when they’d finally made their relationship public, the squeaky knees and cracking bones belonged to him. He holds out his hand, and she stretches for it with it an intrigued smile. “Lead the way, Mr Montague.”

He pulls on the door handle, a grin so wide she thinks his face might break as he starts speaking, his usual normal Scottish brogueness enhanced with a much thicker accent. “If you’ll just step into my special cupboard here, Mrs Budd, I promise my lips will be on you shortly.”

He keeps his promise. It’s the first time she’s made out in a tiny cupboard with a boy, and on a scale from 1-10, it's easily an 11. It makes her want to build one at home just for this, so they can sneak away to it regularly. Desperate hands fumble under the skirt of her dress, as teasing tongues savor the quiet and privacy of being two doors away from everyone else. His lips practically melt onto hers, each breath making the outside world feel further and further away. His mouth is so soft, so good at this, so focused on exploring every inch of her lips that it makes her dizzy. She’d felt so lonely in the large crowd upstairs, as David supervised pictures of the children before they were left to roam free. The interest and attention was well intended, but overwhelming and exhausting. She’d been peppered with well wishes, and then with the inevitable and barely concealed, questions that she’d already suffered through in one brand new marriage. She’d never let the discomfort show, leaning back comfortably on years of experience of hiding her true feelings as a politician, until she found a way to slip out of sight, to be by herself. 

And now, here, with him practically wrapped around her as he kisses her deeply and makes her forget about the 100 people upstairs, she feels so deeply loved and overcome with emotion, that she can’t help but whisper her well-guarded secret against his mouth. It’s the first time his lips leave hers since they pulled the door shut, and she almost regrets breaking the spell, until he begins a giddy trail of kisses on her neck and jaw and face. He doesn’t stop. It goes on and on, until they both collapse into fits of breathless giggles on the floor in the dark. Her heart feels like it’s going to break open from the warmth spreading in her chest, and soon to the rest of her body. There’s a crack in the door, and soon the summer evening light fills their dark, little safe haven. Ella looms above them curiously as Charlie asks what they’re doing, and David can’t even pretend to hide his joy. Soon they’re four people instead of two sitting on the floor in the closet and Charlie’s excitedly telling a story with corrections from Ella. It’s easier when they rejoin the party upstairs ten minutes later, because his hand doesn’t leave hers again for the next hour and even then it’s only to carry Charlie to the car. Cousins and aunts and uncles wave them off, and for the first time that day it doesn’t feel like too much. Maybe having this particular massive family won’t be so bad, not when many of them bear traces of his face in their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"LOVE", BY ROY CROFT_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (Poem from Ella’s reading)
> 
> I love you  
> Not only for what you are,  
> But for what I am  
> When I am with you.  
> I love you,  
> Not only for what  
> You have made of yourself,  
> But for what  
> You are making of me.  
> I love you  
> For the part of me  
> That you bring out;  
> I love you.  
> For putting your hand  
> Into my heaped-up heart  
> And passing over  
> All the foolish, weak things  
> That you can’t help  
> Dimly seeing there,  
> And for drawing out  
> Into the light  
> All the beautiful belongings  
> That no one else had looked  
> Quite far enough to find.


	3. The Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding night - at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's soft, and it's smutty. Enjoy, leave a comment and happy **hump** day!

She waits for him by the door. 

She can hear the predictable array of questions from overtired children, and feels a tinge of guilt about the third piece of cake she’d allowed earlier, as her new mother-in-law shoos her son out of the suite and in her direction. David shuts the hotel door behind him and a chill runs through her body when he traps her between himself and the wall. She’s still not one for public displays of affection, but honestly they’ve been egging each other on, and she’s still living on a high after a near perfect day. Even the rain had timed itself well for the occasion. They’d barely felt it as they’d rushed inside just before the heavens had fully opened in the afternoon. It’s a quick run from the children’s suite to their honeymoon suite, and feeling the silky, cream dress flow behind her is the second time Julia Montague has felt her life was like a movie, though a happier one this time. Both times it ends with his lips sucking on hers as they fumble towards a bed in an unfamiliar hotel room. The bed bounces when they land on it, and David sighs happily as he strokes her arm and kisses her mouth. 

They lie there for minutes, enjoying the quiet and the moon. She sits up with a deep sigh, feels the long day that’s behind them in the way her feet ache and remembers that she forgot to drink much today. Maybe he’s become a mind reader, or maybe he’s been watching her too carefully throughout the day, but he kisses her cheek and offers to get something to drink. Apple cider sparkles in two champagne flutes as she studies the man that’s become her husband since last night. His face must be tired, because every time she’s looked at him throughout the day, he’s worn the same silly smile he does now. He’s almost childishly excited as he hands her the glass and clinks his against hers. He brings over a glass bottle of water, and lays out a tiny spread of crackers, nuts and hard cheeses from the mini-bar. _Sweet sustenance._

His hands come to rest around her waist, gently caressing her stomach against the silk, as she carefully places her grandmothers antique earrings on the dressing table. Takes off the day as he watches with a smile. Their eyes meet in the mirror and she almost doesn’t recognize herself in the dreadful hotel lighting, her lipstick all but gone after their little cupboard adventure earlier. But he still smiles. Contently at first, and then wickedly as he moves down to her neck and bestows it some well-needed attention. She hears the zipper being undone and watches her husband watching her as her dress falls to the floor. He sinks down, gathers the dress and throws it on the chair by the window. It tickles a bit when his hands trace slowly along her legs. She grips the table when a wet, eager tongue leaves its marks on her skin. 

The pale pink lace underwear the bridal shop had insisted on is, as she predicted, quickly discarded and ends up on the floor, unnoticed. She sees him smile just before she feels his tongue exactly where she wants it. He spends a minute working her to perfection, his mouth well trained in what she wants and how she likes it by now. He stands up with a grin, mouth glistening and eyes sparkling as he leans in to kiss her. The tie she’d fixed for him earlier hangs around her neck, the silk cool against her skin as she unbuttons his shirt for him. He unhooks the bra and casts it to the side with its matching part. He can’t resist leaning in, he never can, and lavish attention on her left breast with his mouth as she struggles with his belt. She gasps, and he stops, retreats before he seeks it out again, much gentler this time. 

She pulls his phone out of his trouser pocket, places it on the dressing table next to the earrings, and sees three familiar faces shining up at her. It’s not even a moment she would have considered unique; it’s become so normal to her now. Though Ella looks incredibly grown up with her hair curled just as her own had been, as she had waited patiently to put on the soft purple dress they’d all picked out. Charlie’s face reads of pure child-like enthusiasm as they all lean forward in their robes and watch as the nail technician paints their nails in wedding day pink. They’d both insisted on matching. She hadn’t even noticed the picture being taken. 

The phone fades to black, and his belt finally unbuckles. An exasperated finally tickles against her breast, and she smiles. They’d gone a bit too far, though not nearly far enough, in the car earlier. Barely even noticed the car coming to a stop, and while Julia had quickly jumped out to greet their guests, David had stepped out a full minute later, face flushed and eyes much more interested in inspecting the grass than attending to family members. She tries to tease him now, tries to take her time and undo his pants slowly. He takes over immediately, divests himself of all the clothing he has left and pulls her back to the bed. She crawls backwards, half his body towering over her, dark pools of pure lust staring back at her as she pants with anticipation.

“Teasing isn’t very nice, Mrs Budd.” The lower half of his body rests between her legs. She wraps her legs around him, and he only inches closer. Follows every teasing move she makes with one of his own. It’s a game they enjoy playing, because in the end they both win, regardless of the outcome. “What you did in the limo today. Not nice.”

He’s distracted by her lips. Tugging on them with his teeth and watching for her reaction. She uses his distraction to take control, and flips him over with a loud grunt, so she can straddle him instead. His eyes close, a painfully growing erection between them all the encouragement she craves to keep their game going. “I don’t recall any complaints at the time, Mr Montague.”

“Oh, no complaints. _Ma’am._ Care to try for a more satisfying ending this time?” She cocks her eyebrow, and he bites his lip as she slides down along his legs. She begins at his knees. Lovingly and sloppily letting her lips caress every inch of him, from one thigh to the next as she tries to cover every part of his skin. She feels his muscles tense as she reaches his crotch, and she lets light fingers dance along the length of his cock for a moment. He’s already halfway there, nearly ready for her. His face contorts adorably as he pants in anticipation. She senses a slight hint of irritation when she moves on upwards, but feels him stirring underneath her as she continues her journey of marking him as hers. He’s quivering by the time she finally reaches his lips. It’s another thing she loves about him, the way he’s so willing to give himself over completely. To indulge her in her sexual power games, and yet he’s so capable of taking charge. 

He kisses her back, alternating between hard and soft lips while they engage in a lazy, horizontal dance. He seems disappointed when she stops. His lips curl to a pout that quickly turns to a loud gasp when she finally leans down and takes him in her mouth. She keeps her touch light - she has a plan after all - tongue swirling quickly and gently as David pants. She stops just as he bites his lip, and straddles his chest, planning to tease him for as long as she can until he does exactly what she wants him to do; either loses it or takes control.

She doesn’t have to wait long at all. She’s just leaned down to kiss him again when she suddenly finds herself on her back, hands pinned above her head as he pants and whispers only inches away from her face. “No more teasing.”

She’s wet and ready, and grateful he has absolutely no willpower when it comes to her. When he wraps her leg around him, the way he likes it, she indulges him in the other too. He’s nestled deep, and the sound of them as he moves against her is familiar and welcome in the quiet summer night. His hands slide into hers, as he grunts against her lips. Her name emits from his mouth in repeats, as if it is one never-ending sentence. She never tires of it, it makes her feel powerful. 

She wraps his fingers in her own and finally gives over control. He’s hers, and she’s teased enough, made it last long enough that they’ll actually remember it. She encourages him, tries to pull him deeper with her legs, and feels her own name hum against the crook of her neck as she throws her head back. He has a thing about it. So does she. He likes giving it attention towards the end, biting and sucking on her skin until he can tell her orgasm is approaching, and he moves to her mouth. She likes how much he likes it.

He releases one hand. Gently moves his down to help her find release, even though they’ve perfected their dance by now, he’s learned what she needs and she doesn’t really need his help. But it doesn’t hurt, and he watches her intently as she bites her lip, as fire roars in her belly and the world around her explodes familiarly in white-hot flames. 

His hips pound against hers, face flushed as he races towards his own climax. She lets her free hand roam, presses her perfectly pink nails into his skin until he gasps and she moves on. It’s tangled in short salt and peppered hair when his eyes clamp shut forcefully and he empties himself in spurts inside her. He lies down against her chest; rests against warm, slick skin as his breath finally begins to slow. A familiar calm engulfs them both as David stares up at her with a lazy grin, before he slides off, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly as he takes deep breaths at her side. She barely notices his hand sneaking down to pull the covers over them, as she curls up against him beneath a warm duvet. 

 

Her wedding ring reflects in the sunlight that shines through the windows in the morning. Neither of them had remembered to pull the curtains. She wakes to feel him staring at her. She moves, just barely, sticky and sore thighs adjusting more comfortably as he covers her body instantly with his. Presses his warm chest against her back as he cuddles into her and the duvet, their hands side by side with matching bands against the white sheets. He feels deliciously heavy on top of her, his body fully relaxed and lips gently kissing her shoulder as he sighs happily. She doesn’t really need to look at him to know he’s smiling, she can feel it.

One arm moves underneath her, a hand flat against her stomach as he pulls her to him when he moves off. The duvet is warm and cozy, and he pulls it over himself when he climbs on top of her. The duvet bunches over his head. He smiles up at her, face brimming with pride and happiness as he peppers her stomach and chest with wet, sloppy kisses, and then finally wakes her up properly with lazy morning sex.

He falls asleep again after, with a hand on her pillow. Breathes softly, an occasional grin on his lips as he snores. She runs her fingers through his hair, gently so as not to wake him. She likes looking at his face while he sleeps. Her eyes find the hint of weak laugh lines around his mouth, and hopes she’s contributed to them. Her finger trails the jaw that she’d first noticed as it clenched so visibly whenever she’d openly oppose his security protocols and annoying delays. She sees the nose that Charlie’s inherited. His lips curl into the same smile Ella has. She wonders… Imagines for just a moment… He stirs. Stretches a bit. His eyes open when his hand accidentally touches her head and he smiles instantly. He cuddles close, warm chest again warm chest and he grins mischievously. The morning sun disappears and the duvet covers their heads. Her toes feel a little cold in contrast as they peek out at the end, but he pulls her leg over his thigh and soon she’s nestled warm and cozy in his arms. 

“You happy, Mrs Budd?” He places a stray curl behind her ear, and she imagines the carefully styled hair from yesterday now looks a mess. His fingers tickle against her neck and she squirms.

“Yes. Are _you_ happy, Mr Montague?” She fastens the leg closer around him. He takes the hint and leans in.

“I’ve never been happier.” He kisses her nose. He leaves a few more pecks on her face before he holds up the duvet to let in some air, and chuckles. “I didn’t think this through. This is a lot warmer than the sheets at the Blackwood.”

“But this is better.” Julia whispers, and David smiles. He kisses her, softly and slowly, the way she’s come to enjoy. She looks at his watch, grateful that it’s the weekend and still an hour left to make it downstairs before breakfast closes.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to only be a short one-shot. The picture I had in my head, was the thought of them, sitting on the floor on their wedding day and having the conversation. But since I'm me, and I'm very weird, I couldn't stop writing and hence... there are more chapters to come. I'm sorry, and you're welcome. 
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback on which kind of cake you feel would be Julia's favorite, because I honestly couldn't decide, and hence... non-descriptive cake it is.
> 
> I know they're not falling in love here, but I kept listening to this song as I wrote, and I love the section I've included. It fits with the thing about their hands, so it became a theme.


End file.
